I can do it myself
by The-Amazing-Kay
Summary: A HetaOni oneshot about how exactly Italy learned how to tie his shoelaces. Contains slight GerIta. TW: Blood and Character death


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_Keep going. Just keeping running. Don't stop. If you stop, you're dead._

These thoughts were the only thoughts going through Italy's head as he ran down the hall of that cursed mansion. His feet pounded against the hardwood floor as he pumped his arms at his sides, one of them gripping his precious journal tightly. Adrenaline surged through him as panic gripped at his heart. The only coherent thought processing in his mind was that he had to escape, he _had_ to get away. If this thing caught him, there would be no way to save his friends.

He'd really thought they were going to get out this time. He thought he had everything figured out and everyone in the right place. He hadn't told them the truth this time, and that turned out to be what had made him fail. He'd told America, Japan, and and England to stay out of the library. He'd had to beg them, but eventually they had agreed to stay out of there. Italy being so persistent about them not going in there, however, must have raised questions. Because when Italy found them next, they were in the library, and the monster had already...

Italy shook his head. He didn't want to think about it.

He wasn't sure where anyone else was, and it didn't really matter now, since he was about to reset clock anyw-

Suddenly, something pulled at his leg, holding him back, and he lost his balance. He crashed to the ground, his shoulder slamming into the hard floor. He cried out as pain exploded in his shoulder and arm, right where he'd landed.

He scrambled around for a moment, trying to stand and find the journal, which had slipped from his hands. When he turned around, the monster was looming over him.

Italy had grown so accustom to the thing that whenever he saw it, it no longer phased him. It loomed over him, ready to attack. It had teeth and claws as sharp as knifes. Its dark eyes stared at him like portals of nothingness, just pure black. Italy wondered how it could even see.

But despite all the times he seen it, in that moment he was paralyzed with fear, just as he had been the first time he saw it.

"P-please, don't-!" He managed.

He turned his head,closing his eyes tightly bracing himself for the pain. But for some reason, it didn't come. He then opened his eyes, to see that something had gotten in the way

It took Italy a moment to realize that that something was Germany. He held his sword against the thing, holding it off of him. Italy just sat there, dumbfounded and in shock that he was still alive.

Germany glanced back at him. "Get out of here!" He yelled, "Hurry up!"

His voice seemed to shock Italy out of his daze, who then scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could down the hallway and into a nearby room.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he let out a sigh of relief and slid to the floor, his back to the door. He sat there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and recollect his thoughts. He had almost died. He had almost died but Germany had been there, and he had protected him-

Suddenly, he heard a great cry come from the hallway. Germany. His eyes widened and he stood up, throwing open the door and racing out into the hall. When he saw the scene before him, he drew in a breath.

The monster was gone, but his friend was now lying on the floor, clutching his middle where a circle of blood was growing. An icy shock ran down Italy's spine and he gasped, covering his hands with his mouth. No, no, no. This could not be happening.

"Germany!" He yelled, running to him as fast as he could and dropping down on his knees next to him.

Germany looked up at him. "Italy? A-are you okay?" He immediately asked.

Italy just shook his head, looking at the mess of blood that surrounded his friend. He let out what could have been a small laugh. "Y-you're asking me?"

Germany looked down at the wound. "Th-this is rather bad, isn't it..." He said weakly.

Italy gulped, trying to swallow a wave of nausea. "Y-yeah. Just listen, you going to be okay, alright? I'm going to-"

"Y-you're acting so calm about this..." Germany pointed out.

"Uh huh." Italy said, not taking his eyes off the wound. "Stay here, I'm going to get some bandag-"

"Why are you not crying?"

Italy looked at him. Germany looked genuinely confused.

"Wh-what a strange question..." Italy said, "D-do you want me to cry?"

Germany blinked, then shook his head. "N-no, of course not. It's just that...y-you usually..."

Italy sighed. "I know. I guess I'm just used to it."

In all honesty, it shocked Italy that he wasn't crying. The pain he felt was still very much there, and if he could, he would definitely cry. But for some reason, he just felt just so...empty. Tired. Oh god, he was tired. Not only had he not slept in who knows how long, but he'd gone through so much that he almost wanted to just give up.

But he wouldn't give up. Not ever. Not until every one of his friends was safely out of the mansion and back home. Now that he realized it, he hadn't cried for many timeloops now. His eyes were dry and he just felt so...dead, for lack of a better term. He hadn't cried for so long, he almost forgot what it felt like to do so.

"What do you mean, used to it?" Germany asked.

Italy shook his head. "I can't explain it. Not here, not now."

"Well, what other time is there going to be, Italy?! I'm not going to be here much longer..."

"P-please don't say that..." Italy said softly, even though he knew it was true. It wouldn't be long until...

"I'm sorry, Italy. I-"

"Stop." Italy said. "Just- Just stop! Stop saying you're sorry. Everyone always says they're sorry when they're dying. And it's just-I'm just- I'm just so tired...of everyone...saying..."

"I don't know what else to say, Italy!" Germany said.

"I know, but...just say something else. _Anything_ else. Just please, don't say you're sorry."

"How about this then:" Germany said, his eyes beginning to droop, "Auf Weidersehen. Do you know what that means?"

Italy shook his head.

"It's German for 'goodbye'. It also means, 'We'll meet again someday.' Do you like that better?"

Italy was quiet for a moment.

"Yes."

Germany sighed. "Well then...' Then, his eyes drifted close, and his breathing stopped.

Italy's eyes widened. "Germa...!" He exclaimed, shaking his friend and trying to wake him up, but it was no use.

He stood up, backing away from him. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Germany had to be okay, he just had to... He tried to tell himself that it was alright, that he was going to reset the clock anyway, so it didn't matter if one more person...

...yes, it did. It mattered.

No longer being able to look at his friend's corpse anymore, Italy ran to the room he had been in a moment before and slammed the door.

How had this even happened anyway? What had caused Germany to jump in front of and protect him?

...oh, that's right. He had tripped. But what had he tripped on?

When Italy glanced down, he saw his shoe was untied. Figured.

"Hey Germany? Can you-" Italy began, turning around, before he remembered. Germany was gone.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, tears sprung to Italy's eyes. Germany was gone, and he couldn't help Italy at all. Italy was all on his own.

Italy wasn't sure why he was crying over something so trivial as this. If he needed to, he could just reset and then ask Germany or Japan to tie his shoes then. But for some reason, he couldn't stop the tears that were streaming down his face.

"Wh-why'd you have to go?!" Italy yelled at no one in particular. There was a pain in his chest unlike any other, and he couldn't help but feel completely and utterly hopeless. He staggered backwards, clutching his chest. "Now who's going to tie my shoelaces? I-I don't know how! I need someone to help me!"

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around himself and sunk to his knees. He shook his head, his tears falling down his face like waterfalls and staining the floor. "Please..." He whimpered, "Please, someone help me...!"

He shook his head, suddenly realizing how alone he was. "No, no...! I can't be alone! Please, someone! _Anyone!_ Please, oh god, please don't leave me here!"

He choked out a sob. "I just want to go home! Please...I want my friends! I-I need their help! I can't do this on my own!"

"Germany! Japan! Prussia! England, France, America, _someone!_ Russia, Canada!" He sobbed, " _Please!"_

He was practically screaming now, desperate and hysterical. He shook his head over and over again, trying to get the images of his dead friends out of his head. He'd never cried so hard in his entire life, not when his Grandpa died or when he found out his first love was not coming back from war. All he could think was _no, no why this why me?!,_ too distraught and too confused to think about anything else.

He slammed his fists onto the ground, letting out a scream of anguish. For a long time, he sat there, crying his heart out. He kept calling his friends, begging they would come, but they didn't.

Finally, his sobs turned into cries which then turned into whimpering and sniffling. He took a deep breath as he looked down at his still untied shoelace. Then, he took the two laces in his shaking hands and proceeded to try tying them together.

It took him about thirty minutes to finally figure out how to tie them. He tried to remember what he could from the times that Germany had tried to teach him, but he couldn't remember a thing. Those memories were far away, replaced by ones of trying to memorize the mansion. It took him forever, but eventually, he did it.

Then, finally feeling less helpless, he went over and picked up the journal. With shaking hands, flipped to the page that was meant for turning back time, then looked down one last time at his now tied shoelace, smiling a sad smile.

"I guess I'm not so useless after all..."

"Oh, my shoe's untied..!"

"Huh? Oh. Here, let me tie that for you then."

"No, it's okay Germany. I can do it myself!"

"...Oh. Alright then."


End file.
